


Hope Blossoms Forth

by EquesArtis



Series: A Blooming Rebellion [1]
Category: RWBY, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Star Wars!au, lots of characters will come and go, ruby and blake are force sensitive, there's gonna be a series ;3, yang says fuck a bunch
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-13 22:09:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16480673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EquesArtis/pseuds/EquesArtis
Summary: The galaxy has been thrown into turmoil as the Galactic Civil War continues. The Death Star has been destroyed, the Empire is hunting for the pockets of rebellion that have slipped through their iron grip, and four girls will be brought together to intertwine both their own destinies, and that of the future of the Rebellion, and the survival of Hope as the universe knows it...





	1. Meetings

**Author's Note:**

> You better bet your bottom dollar that I'm rewriting the Star Wars!AU !! I've been trying to get around to it for a while, and have finally been reclaiming my motivation to write again! I plan to get to the Skyrim!AU as well, but for now I plan to primarily focus on finishing this first book in the Star Wars series, along with a few one-shots here and there. Anyone re-reading from my old fic, you'll notice the first few chapters have some definite similarities to the old ones, but things are going to pick up once I catch up with where I was! Promise!
> 
> So without further ado,
> 
>  
> 
> A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away. . .

The inky darkness of space stretched out before the Star Destroyer, dotted only by the twinkling lights of stars. Each star was carefully examined by the Imperial captain looking out from her bridge, officers around her managing engine levels, navigation, communications. They knew what they were doing. They didn’t need her immediate attention. She almost smirked in pride. She knew she was far younger than a majority of the commanding officers in the Imperial Navy, and even more-so, she knew that the  _ Impaler _ was a prime example of Palpatine’s war machine. Every man and woman knew exactly what their job was, and exactly how to do it - guided only slightly by the careful hand of their commanding officer. It was… thrilling.

Her ice-blue eyes swept across the expanse, regarding it steadily. She and her crew were used to long periods of time spent in space, travelling between outposts and providing support wherever they were called too. At this moment, however, she couldn’t deny the burrowing sense of… uneasiness? That was a feeling she didn’t experience often. It put her on an edge she rarely found herself on.

Her trance was suddenly broken when a light on the console started flashing, one of her officers tapping his screen and reading the message displayed. He glanced up at her, his expression as neutral as ever.

“Captain. We have a shuttle jumping out of hyperspace.”

True to his word, a small, gray shape appeared before the cruiser, as if out of nowhere. She recognized the  _ Lambda _ -class ship, nodding to another of her officers to ask for clearance code. A few seconds passed before the confirmation of the codes beeped throughout the bridge.

“They’re clear, captain.”

“Permit them to board. And inform our passenger that I wish to speak with her at the earliest possible convenience.” The officer nodded again, forwarding her commands. The captain steadied herself again, turning her attention back to the stars. They would soon return to patrolling Palpatine’s galaxy, but for now, they would bear a special request from their Emperor’s gloved fist himself.

It wasn’t long until the doors behind her hissed open, signaling the arrival of their passenger. The captain turned on the heel of her boot, taking slow, methodical steps towards the figure standing on her bridge. She had to force herself not to react when she took in her features.

 

She was… a girl. No older than herself, she wagered. Wavy, jet-black hair flowed down her back and over her shoulders, framing a pale face. Gleaming amber eyes locked with ice-blue for a tense moment as the two presences weighed each other. The captain cleared her throat and extended a hand.

“You’re Lord Vader’s agent, I take it.”

The young woman carefully regarded the extended hand before taking it.

“I am.” The officer waited for some sort of introduction, and upon receiving none, cleared her throat again and continued.

“I am Captain Weiss Schnee. Welcome aboard the  _ Impaler _ , ma’am.”

“You may dispense the pleasantries, Captain, thank you.” She responded in a soft, reserved voice as she gave a half smile that made Weiss’s spine prickle. “I look forward to travelling with you, if only for a couple days.”

“...Of course.” Weiss nodded, pulling her hand back and returning to her stiff, attentive stance. “If you’d like you can stay here on the bridge, otherwise I can have you led to your quarters…”

“I’m sorry, Captain, but I am indeed exhausted, and wish to retire.” The young woman smiled, a little more genuinely this time, if it weren’t for the feigned apologetic glance. “If you could spare a trooper or a droid to show me to my room…” Weiss glanced at a younger trooper, who nodded and started walking back towards the doors behind the mysterious passenger. Icy blue locked with amber for a few seconds longer before she gave a slight, polite bow and followed the stormtrooper off the deck, the door sliding shut behind her. Weiss’s eyes burned into the spot she had last seen her, slowly willing her stiff body to relax. She hadn’t even realized how tense she had become.

 

Only after the young woman had left did the captain realize the deafening silence of her bridge. She turned, seeing a dozen pairs of eyes on her. Nobody dared speak as Weiss scanned the room before briskly walking back towards her position at the forefront of the bridge.

“To Sullust. Let’s make our guest’s trip as short as possible.”

 

~~~ ~~~

 

Ruby Rose felt… at ease. She always did while tinkering, of course, but today she simply felt especially-so. She had been working on giving her engines another added kick with her astromech, the droid beeping cheerily from it’s port in the X-Wing starfighter.

“Go ahead and check diagnostics again, R4.” She called down, pulling dark goggles back down over her eyes. The droid beeped cheerfully, it’s probe twisting around in the socket embedded in her hull. The wiring in the exposed engine whined to life as the replaced current surged through the mechanics, casting a faint magenta glow over their surroundings and bringing a twinge of pride to the girl - until warning sirens came on in the cockpit, sparks shooting out of some of the cabling within the engine’s casing.

“T-Turn it off! Shut it down, it’s overcharged!” She shouted, covering her face from the shower of sparks and intense heat as she jammed a gloved hand in, fumbling around to secure the cabling and pull it back. The astromech below her ship squealed in panic, working as quickly as it could to shut down the current. Ruby sighed in relief as the engine whined back down, twisting the cabling ends around between her fingers, humming thoughtfully.

 

“Note to self: Put in a request for industrial cabling in the next shipment in.” She sighed to herself, wiping sweat off of her forehead and pulling her goggles back once more. As she took a break, sipping water from her canteen, she noticed a figure approaching her ship, clipped heels sounding out in the hangar as she scrolled through a data pad, platinum-blonde hair falling in front of her face. Ruby scrambled to right herself on her ship, snapping a salute as the woman finally looked up at her.

“C-Colonel Goodwitch!” She stammered, trying hard not to think about the fact that she was covered in grease and smelled like fuel and smoke. The colonel’s face betrayed nothing as she took a polite stance.

“Commander Rose. The general wants you to meet him in his office at the earliest possible convenience to discuss a series of defenses he wishes to put in place.” Goodwitch said, her stern voice commanding respect from the pilot. Ruby forced herself to nod, forcing her muscles to relax.

“A-Absolutely, colonel! I’ll hit the ‘fresher, and---”  
“It’s of the utmost urgency.” The older woman cut in sharply. “I think he can stand the smell of a faulty engine for a few minutes.” She added, the corner of her mouth curling upwards in what Ruby could _almost_ classify as a smile. The young officer nodded, saluting again.

“I’ll set my droid to run diagnostics and head right up.” Goodwitch nodded once more, tapping a few things into her datapad before spinning on her heal and leaving without another word. Ruby sighed, pulling her gloves from her hands and tossing them into the open cockpit of the T-65.

“Try to get this thing put back together, we’ll have to wait on those tune-ups until we get some more pieces in.” She said with a minor grumble. The astromech whistled cheerfully, launching itself up onto the hull to put the engine back together again as Ruby slid off the fighter, wiping her hands on her jumpsuit and exiting the hangar.

 

The base on Vatin-Ell was stirred up more than usual, armed patrols chatting amongst themselves as they made their way to exits, and technicians carrying boxes of armaments and mounts to various locations around the caverns that had been carved out and smoothed down into functional hallways, the side of the mountain excavated into the massive hangar that now housed a majority of their ships.

Ruby shuffled past a mass of officers and strategists, muttering quiet “excuse me”s as she went, finding herself out on the thin, durasteel walkway that bridged one part of the base to the next, a massive cavern stretching around her into darkness, the lights of the base barely reaching down the sheer drop. It always felt like her stomach dropped away from her whenever she set foot on this bridge in particular, but she quickly found her footing as she strode across it, her footsteps echoing out in the opening within the mountain. The durasteel door on the other side slid open as she approached, and she stepped in, thankful to be off the catwalk.

The hallways here were far quieter, primarily serving as barracks, with the infirmary nearby as well. She gave a half-wave to the handful of soldiers she recognized, heading in after their shifts or heading out to start one. Finally, she found a lift, keying in her code on the panel. The door slid open, allowing her entrance before sliding shut again, a hum rising up around her as the platform quickly shot up the shaft. She double checked that she looked as presentable as possible before standing at attention, the elevator slowly coming to a stop before the door before her slid open.

 

General Ozpin’s quarters were… intriguing to say the least. One of the few rooms in the base with a window, warm sunlight streamed into the room, casting a warm glow over the antiquities that the older man had collected over his life. Small, intricate mechanisms, lined with ticking gears, adorned his shelves, old books - not datapads, or holographic tomes, but real, paper books - lined a small, modest bookcase against the wall, and a display case showed off a variety of weapons, ranging from Clone Wars-era rifles to ancient, dirt-stained blades, locked behind strong, glass panes. In front of the wall, a silhouette cast in sunlight, was a large, dark, wooden desk, intricate carvings adorning it, like ancient hieroglyphics, telling some sort of ancient epic. Projecting from the center of the desk was a starmap, data seeming to show Imperial fleet movements and manuscripts, flickering back and forth to reveal Ozpin’s face, scrunched up in perplexion as he barely acknowledged the girl’s entrance.

“Commander Rose.” He said finally, seemingly bemused by Ruby’s refusal to step forward until invited. “Please, do come in.” He said, tapping a few buttons to stow away the projection once more. Ruby relaxed, stepping up to the desk and politely crossing her hands in front of her.

“General Ozpin.” She said, flashing a smile. “The colonel said you needed to speak with me?”

“I did.” He said, his voice seeming distant as always. The general rarely left his quarters these days, making appearances for major briefings, funerals, and the occasional commendation, and it was always a bit of a shock to see him again. His tousled, gray hair fell in locks in front of his face, dark glasses hiding his eyes from betraying any further emotions than required. His officer’s uniform was crisp, but faded, seemingly in need of a replacement. Despite the fact that his face was devoid of any wrinkles or blemishes, everyone knew he was far older than he seemed. A few of the A-Wing pilots had a running bet on just how old that was.

Now, however, his sharp, brown eyes were turned to her as he stood, hands steadying himself on the dark surface of his desk, reaching for his cane.

“I need you to take Silver Squadron to orbit this afternoon. A handful of freighters will assist you, carrying first-response satellites our engineers have been preparing. It shouldn’t take long, but we need as many space-efficient personnel in the air as possible to get them functional.”

Ruby nodded. “Of course, general. I can have my people ready as soon as you need.”

She hesitated before asking “I-If I may, why the extra security? I’ve been seeing people all over the base today gearing up as if we’re about to become a warzone.” The older man seemed to stifle a sigh, easing out from the desk and gripping a steaming cup of caf, slowly sipping from it as he turned to face the window, casting a shadow over the room.

“Miss Rose, to be completely honest… we could be.” He said finally. “The Empire has been doubling their efforts to uncover some of our more… hidden cells. Reports have been coming in of infiltrators. Sneak attacks. Our network is at a fragile point, with the High Command searching for a new base.” He glanced back over his shoulder, and flashed a half-smile, as if trying to put himself at ease as much as her. “It’s just a precaution.”

“Of course.” She smiled back, knowing that it hadn’t put anyone at ease whatsoever. “I’ll find the rest of Silver and get them in the air as soon as the freighters are ready.”

“Excellent. I appreciate your help in this matter, miss Rose.” He turned back to the horizon as the sun slowly continued its descent. “Also, I’d tell your squadron to keep their fighters ready for action. You never know what could happen with little-to-no notice these days.” Ruby nodded again, reminding herself again to look into that upgrade before the next mission.

“Is… there anything else, sir?”

“Nothing more for today, commander.” Ozpin said softly, his gaze unwavering from the window. “You can go about your duties as you please.” Ruby snapped an unseen salute before making her retreat from the office, looking at the general one last time before the turbolift’s door slid shut once more. All she saw of him was a rigid figure, pitch black against the sun, already lost in thought again. She kept that image in her mind as the lift descended back into the base, already reaching for her commlink to tell her squad to suit up. She knew that Ozpin wouldn’t say something like that if he hadn’t meant it.

 

She had to be ready for anything.


	2. One Sunny Day In Nall Sha'at

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> B and Y meet for the first time. Chaos ensues.

The small, beat-up freighter pulled itself out of Sullust’s ash-filled skies, breaking the atmosphere and finally slipping into the vacuum of space as Blake let out a sigh of relief. The viewport was filled with the sight of massive, grey Star Destroyers scissoring in front of her ship, paying her no mind as she maneuvered around them and began setting coordinates.

Her stay on Sullust had been brief, but relatively peaceful - she had been put up in the same suite as the captain, was given the opportunity to get some solid rest and good food, and hadn’t been asked to deal with a single disturbance since she arrived on the  _ Impaler. _ It was almost… nice.

Of course, she still had her mission to attend to, and after a few days on the planet, she retrieved the cover freighter she had been left with, and was off on the next stage of her assignment, leaving the controlled space that the Empire held in it’s fist.

As she set a course, a red light began flashing on the console, dragging her attention away from her course calculations. Her blood ran cold for an instant as she felt who was waiting on the other end, steadying her breath before reaching out and flicking a switch on the console. Instantly, all light seemed to be sucked out of the room as a massive, deep-red hologram sprung to life from the console, shining armor shrouded in a flowing cape. Empty eyes seemed to peer directly through the young woman’s soul as grating, raspy breathing filled the cockpit.

 

Darth Vader.

 

“My lord.” She said politely, taking a knee before him, hair falling in thick, black locks around her face. She focused on a speck of dirt embedded on the floor, carefully choosing her words as she continued. “I was just about to contact you.”

“Black Hand.” His impossibly booming voice came through scratched and flickering thanks to the older comm unit, but it was intimidating nonetheless. “I have been waiting for you to report. The last transmission I received from you was shortly before boarding the  _ Impaler, _ was it not?”

“It was, Lord Vader.” She said politely, refusing to look up. “I had little to report. The journey from the rendezvous was eventless, as was my stay on Sullust. I’m about to make my jump to the source of the recent rumors.” He said nothing at first, letting his labored breathing grate on her ears before finally responding.

“I see. In that case, I shall take this final opportunity to remind you of your mission - and it’s stakes.”

“Of course, master.” She said solemnly, remembering exactly what was expected of her

on her assignment. “I am to root out and infiltrate any rebel cell I can come across, gain their trust, and send you information about their leadership, contacts, and supporters.” Here, she looked up at him once more. “And I am to do what I can to crush them when the time comes.”

“Very good.” He said, almost sounding pleased - though she truly doubted as much. “Do not hesitate in your deception, assassin. Take any lengths required to earn their trust, but never forget where your true loyalties lie.”

“To you and our Emperor, Lord Vader.” She confirmed on reflex, as she had said dozens of times before. Vader’s breathing bore down on her as he nodded, crossing his gloved arms in front of him.

“Wipe them out, Black Hand, and yet again prove your loyalty to the Empire. You know the consequences of failure.” He said ominously, his breathing cramming into her senses before being cut off suddenly with the end of the transmission, the figure disappearing from sight and leaving the young woman alone in the cockpit.

 

Only then did she allow herself to gasp for breath, trembling from the pent-up fear the Dark Lord instilled in her. Shakily, she brought herself up to her knees, sitting down once more in the pilot’s seat. Her gleaming, amber eyes locked on the coordinates she had been entering in the navcomputer.

Filve. Reports had started coming in recently about heightened rebel activity in the various ports that dotted the desert planet. It wasn’t much to go off of, but at least it was a start.

 

Punching in the hyperdrive, the stars in front of the viewport turned to streaks of white before giving way to the shimmering, bright-blue of lightspeed. She would go to Filve, and she would make contact. She would carry out Vader’s plan to the letter.

 

She could not afford otherwise.

  
  


~~~ ~~~ ~~~

  
  


She sat still in the cockpit for a while longer, meditating on the events to come, and collecting herself after her transmission before finally pulling herself back to her feet. Vader had told her before boarding the  _ Impaler _ that there would be supplies for her being kept on the freighter, and she thought she might as well look for them.

It was old. Clone Wars-era at least, if not earlier. The lights flickered as the ship rumbled and trembled from the straining hyperdrive decks below her feet, but it still held fast. She brushed her hand on the cool metal plating of the wall, steadying herself as she poked through the rooms. It took some digging, but eventually she found the sleeping quarters, the door sliding open to reveal a crate in the middle of the room.

Carefully, she popped the latches, lifting the lid up to reveal folded clothing within. Slim, dark pants, folded carefully next to shining, black boots, looking like they were fresh off the production line. She found a black, long sleeved shirt, and pieces of armor plating - definitely older than stormtrooper armor, and sturdier too. Possibly repurposed clone armor. Her ears twitched from atop her head as she set the armor down with the rest of the clothing. With the new clothing, she’d definitely look more like a bounty hunter than an Imperial assassin, something she knew she’d appreciate.

She dug around a little longer, finding similar pieces of clothing, a leather belt with a holster strapped to the side, a sleek, dark blaster pistol (which she threw on the bed, making a mental note to practice with it at some point), and new identification papers claiming that she was a mercenary with an  _ impressive _ background. She couldn’t help but note, however, that the last name was left blank.

_ Something to worry about another time,  _ she thought to herself, setting those too on the bed. At the bottom of the crate, however, a gleam caught her eye as she picked up a long, silver cylinder.

 

It was a lightsaber. Obviously. She had been around the ancient weapons of the Jedi and Sith for years, but this one was far different from the ones she had carried, or the weapon of Vader himself. Whereas theirs had black markings all over, giving their hilts a far darker appearance, this one had gold and chrome casting running all throughout the grip. It felt… lighter in comparison to her own, as well. Tentatively, she clicked the ignition.

A humming, violent, shimmering violet blade shot from the emitter with a  _ snap-hiss _ that filled the cabin, washing everything in a warm, purple glow. She stared at the shimmering blade for a moment, the beam giving off a low humming until she snapped it shut with another hiss, hand shaking slightly as she grasped the weapon. She hurriedly set it down on the nearby table with a clatter, taking a breath to steady herself.

 

Deciding to test the fit, Blake stood up, glancing in the mirror as she removed the dark robes she had grown accustomed to over the years. Shimmering, bright amber eyes stared back, peering out of the same pale face she had come to call her own. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she thought she remembered another face, darker, happier. Filled with life.

_ Life. What an overrated concept. _ She scoffed to herself.

She pulled the black pants over her toned legs, leaving them unbuttoned as she tucked the black top into the waistline. As the fabric was pulled over her toned arms, the muscles stretching to slip into the sleeves, she made a mental note to use some of the flight to maintain her workout. No sense in letting her physique go to waste.

She opted to leave the armor off - there were still a few days before she reached Filve, farther into the Outer Rim than Sullust. She did, however, clip her new lightsaber to her waist, the weapon adding a comforting weight to the new feeling of her clothes.

Gathering up her old robes, she took them to the disposal chute, dropping each piece of clothing down into the raging furnace below the deck, burning them to ash before being sent into the cold darkness of space. As she held her lightsaber over the opening, she hesitated. The weapon had been a part of her life for years, a constant companion on even the most dangerous weapons. Letting it go felt like turning her back on that past, on those memories, despite the fact that she was meant to slip into a new identity entirely.

Shakily, she finally pulled the weapon back, grasping it firmly in her hand. She could afford to keep it. A companion during her foray into her new life. She closed the disposal hatch, letting out a sigh of tension as she retreated back to her cabin.

 

Blake stretched out, leaning back onto her bunk and closed her eyes, quieting her mind as the ship gently hummed and rumbled through hyperspace. She could feel herself on the verge of big changes, the Force calling to her, lulling her into the sense that great things would happen in the coming days.

 

If only she could know just what those changes had in store for her.

  
  


~~~ ~~~ ~~~

 

“Twelve thousand, final offer.”

“Don’t push your luck, Blondie.”

“I’m not pushing anything, J’Karr. This is premium stock, and it deserves a premium price. Twelve thousand credits, take it or leave it.” The young woman smirked at the bothan sitting across from her, her violet eyes shimmering playfully as she kicked her feet up on the table. The cantina’s band was playing a lowkey, swinging melody, the duros woman at the microphone belting out a smooth voice to match. Muffled chatter chipped at her hearing from all around, allowing her to catch bits and pieces of the less-than-legal deals being made all around. Out of all the cantina’s throughout Filve’s enclosed, protected cities, Junior’s was definitely one of the hotspots for the planet’s more… illegitimate side of business.

J’Karr chuckled, a rough, bleating sound echoing from his muzzle. “Premium? Last time any of my boys used  _ your _ blasters on a job, half of them had to go the nearest medical post with third degree burns when they imploded in their hands. Seven thousand, no more.”

The smuggler put up her hands defensively. “Hey, buddy, you might want to calm down a bit. Those are some serious accusations to be throwing at a reputable businesswoman such as myself.”

“Serious indeed.” The bothan smirked, revealing cracked teeth lining his maw. “So we have a deal?” The woman hummed thoughtfully before clapping her hands together, beaming.

“You’ve got it! Ten thousand, and we can call it even?” J’Karr’s face fell, turning to a scowl, the thick fur around his neck bristling.

“I tried being reasonable, Xiao Long. But you just  _ had _ to try playing smart.”

 

The smuggler saw his furry hand shooting for his holster out of the corner of her eye, her hand instinctively shooting down to her own hip and sliding her DT-12 out of it’s holster, leveling it at the bothan’s face before he could bring his own weapon above the table. She smirked.

“Bad move.” She said before pulling the trigger, the discharge of energy going straight through his forehead and into the wall behind him as he slumped over onto the table, smoke gently rolling from the fresh blaster wound.

 

“Yang, for crying out--- we went over this last time!” The bartender shouted from behind the counter, his face twisted in frustration as he held back from shattering the glass he was in the process of cleaning.

“Come  _ on, _ Junior! You saw as clear as anyone here that it was self-defense this time, he’s still got the blaster in his hand!” She cried out, holstering her weapon and waving her arm in the direction of the body behind her. The man growled under his breath, returning to cleaning his glass and refusing to look her in the eyes.

“I told you that last time was it. For good. I want you out of my cantina before I call the stormtroopers on you.” He said gruffly, nodding his head towards the door. Yang bit her lip, eyes briefly flickering to crimson before sighing.

“Sorry about the mess.” She muttered under her breath, placing a couple credits on the bar before walking out the door, the chatter that had fallen silent with the blasterfire resuming behind her as the durasteel sliding open in front of her, blinding her with the burning sunlight high above.

 

The clear dome that shielded the city from the arid, desert climate outside sloped high above the blonde’s head, the bustle of Nall Sha’at all around her. The port was definitely one of the least popular on Filve when it came to the planet’s imports and exports, but that left an abundance of room for the shadier aspects of industry. Especially when the local Imperial occupation had made most coveted items into contraband.

Yang hummed softly to herself as she made her way through the crowded side-streets of the city, the sun beating down on the throngs of people and making the smuggler sweat despite the climate-control the dome possessed. Instinctively, she would pull her orange scarf up around her face whenever she saw the shimmering, white domes of stormtrooper helmets poking up through the crowds, lowering it again when they had passed and continuing on her way. Patrols had been becoming more frequent as of late, probably thanks to the not-so-subtle attempts at driving the occupation out of the planet, spearheaded by the various crime families around the cities. It made business tough on everyone, something that burnt her out when it came to the organized underworld of Filve.

Lost in her thoughts, she turned around the corner of a flat, gray building, the docking bays coming into view at last.  _ They’re busier than usual today.  _ She noted to herself, eyeing the various crews coming in and out of the various hangar doors, shouting orders to each other and piloting loading equipment in and out, heavy crates of various designs in hand. She ignored them for the most part, scanning the various entrances for where she had landed her baby.

She let out a sigh of relief as Docking Bay 92 came into view, speeding up to a brisk jog, anxious to make sure her ship was okay. The massive, dull-grey doors slowly slid open, the sound of metal straining on metal falling on deaf ears as Yang eagerly waited for her ship to come into view.

 

Seeing the  _ Bumblebee  _ always put a skip in her step, her modified XS stock light freighter. The wide, flat freighter still somehow looked sleek despite the bulky silhouette, black paint gleaming in the sun with yellow accents running all over, fading into a vibrant orange towards the back of the hull, two massive engines adorning the rear of the ship. A hand-painted cartoon of a bee adorned either side of the cockpit, projected prominently from the front of the ship. Aurebesh text gave it it’s name in prominent, vibrant paint just under the insect marking. She grinned, taking a step towards her ship… only to frown when she realized she wasn’t alone.

Standing in front of the ship was a handful of men, all holding blaster rifles, eyeing the ship. Armor that looked as if it had been cobbled together an hour ago covered each of them, painted jet black with a deep, red skull on the shoulders that made her mood worsen. They were the footsoldiers of Atilla, one of the more troublesome crime bosses in this neck of the woods. She muttered a curse under her breath, putting as much casual swagger into her steps as she could as she walked up to them.

“Anything I can help you boys with?” She called out as cheerily as she could. The men whipped around, hands gripping their rifles tightly as they faced the source of the disturbance. She noted that most of them seemed younger, probably new recruits into Atilla’s ranks. In the middle of the group was a Weequay, his wrinkled, leathery skin unmistakable. His face shifted as he flashed a toothy grin.

“Captain Xiao Long, correct?” He said in choppy, accented basic. His voice was deep and gruff, difficult to understand, but not impossible.

“That’s right.” She called back, flashing a grin. “I hope you guys haven’t been messing with my ship.”

“We wouldn’t dream of it.” He said, holding up a hand. “In fact, we actually come here bearing an offer from Atilla himself. He requires your services.” Yang barked a laugh, taking on a casual stance that put her hand in reach of her blaster, mentally calculating her odds in a firefight.

“I don’t peddle spice anymore, sorry. You can tell him to find another smuggler.” The Weequay’s smile never faltered, but he made a gesture with his hand. Immediately, the guards around him levelled their weapons at the blonde, cocking charges in preparation.

_ Fuck. _ Yang kicked herself internally at giving them the chance. The representative tsk-ed softly.

“I’m sorry, Captain, but Atilla won’t be taking no from you today. We are to bring you to him. Either by your choice,” he said calmly, pulling out his own blaster pistol and pointing it at her chest, “or our force.” The smuggler cursed again, shrugging and urging her body not to tense up.

“Of course! Lead the way. I’m sure Atilla and I can come to an agreement.” She smiled, allowing them to lead her off to a nearby skiff at gunpoint. Her thoughts shifted darkly as she got in, surrounded on either side by an armed thug.

_ Yeah, right. We’ll come to an agreement when I put a shot in his stupid, crime boss head. Or, you know. If he doesn’t kill me first. _

 

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

 

Blake had never felt comfortable in crowds, but the streets of Nall Sha’at took that to a whole new level. She felt incredibly out of place amongst the throngs of people coming and going, crowding and swelling into the side streets of the spaceport. It took all her restraint not to get overwhelmed by the sheer volume, and quite frankly it made her nervous being that unaware of her surroundings. That, and the fact that she had a bag of credits from selling her ship for far less than it was worth in an attempt to cover her tracks.

As she walked through the crowded streets, her nose caught a whiff of something spicy that made her mouth water instantly. Her belly rumbled loudly, reminding her of the fact that she had barely eaten on her flight. There wasn’t much aside from a few ration bars, and those hadn’t done a whole lot to sate her hunger. Following the smell, she turned off into an alleyway, following it until she came to a vendor’s hall, food peddlers calling out for customers, advertising various home recipes to the public. She continued following her nose until she came to a stand, finding grills over open flames, small lizards, birds, and other animals frying over the fires, fat sizzling and dripping down the sides of the meat.

Forcing herself not to stare, she cleared her throat, setting down her bag of belongings. The merchant, a small, older man with balding silver hair, smiled up at her in acknowledgement.

“I’ll have two of those, please,” she said calmly, trying to mask her intense hunger, as she pointed at two sizzling fish, tails curling upwards as they crisped over the fire. The man nodded, pulling out long sticks and skewering them together and holding them out. She pulled out a handful of credits and stuck them in his hand gratefully before pulling away from the stand, taking a bite out of one of the fish. Instantly, her eyes fluttered as she let out a rare, uncharacteristic hum of pleasure. They had been seasoned to perfection over the fire, and while crispy on the outside, there was still soft, delicious meat inside the scale-covered outer skin. She had no idea how the man had gotten fish out here, especially considering how fresh it seemed. After a life that consisted mainly of ration bars and protein supplements, this was easily the best thing she’d never thought food could taste so good.

 

“---watch,” a crisp, filtered voice said quietly from behind her, approaching quickly. Her ears twitched irritably, instantly recognizing the sound. Stormtroopers.

“Running errands for your master like a good slave, faunus?” She turned to find a patrol standing a few feet away from her, one in particular standing out as he called out.

“I’m not a slave,” she scoffed. The trooper glanced back at the others, laughing before turning back to her, taking a few steps forward and getting uncomfortably close.

“Riiight. Because there’s a third option for you people, aside from ‘slave’ or ‘dead.’”

“I’m just buying some food, I’ll be on my way.” She tried to push past him, taking every ounce of restraint to refrain from flooring him then and there. His gloved hand grasped her arm firmly, growling under the helmet.

“You’re not going anywhere. Still some use for a faunus like you~” He started, holding tightly as she tried to pull away. Her amber eyes flickered as she glared daggers at the trooper, ignoring the rest of the squad approaching.

“Let me go. Now,” she said firmly, voice barely wavering as she poured as much cold into her voice as she could muster while shifting her stance, trying to pull away again and hoping to intimidate him into cooperating. He was about to retort when she noticed one of the troopers suddenly fumbling with their rifle, hurriedly aiming it at her.

“G-Gren. Get away from the Jedi.” His voice trembled, gesturing with the tip of his rifle for the trooper to back away. Glancing down, Blake’s heart sunk as she realized the makeshift sash she had formed around her waist had come undone, revealing the hilt of her lightsaber. Putting her hands up slowly, she took a step back.

“...We don’t have to do this---” The first trooper to raise his rifle fired off a shot, the beam of plasma lancing past the young woman’s cheek, burning out against the stone wall behind the food stand. Grimacing, her hand went for the hilt of her lightsaber, hoisting her bag back up over her shoulder.

“I gave you a chance to walk away,” she said simply before sticking her hand out, an unseen force launching outwards and sending the troopers flying before she turned and began sprinting out of the alley. Behind her, she heard one of the troopers radioing for backup over her comms.

_ So much for subtlety, _ she thought, shoving the thought in the back of her mind as another shot whizzed past her as she rounded the corner back into the streets, everyone sprinting in a panic away from the sound of blasterfire. She desperately hoped that she could evade the patrols and lie low somewhere. The sound of boots hitting the ground didn’t do much to reassure her as she prepared to run for her life.

 

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

 

Yang huffed, arms stretched across the seats of the skiff as she stared up at the sky above, a few scattered clouds rolling past as they navigated through the streets of Nall Sha’at. She jumped as the man on her left’s commlink went off, blaring static and scattered chatter. As he fiddled with it, she suddenly realized he was tapped into Imperial comm frequencies. Impressive.

“Boss, local chatter says there’s some commotion. Looks like… ah fuck, a Jedi? Escaping patrols in the bazar.”

“Steer clear of them.” The Weequay muttered. “The last thing we want is to get written up for interference, yes?” The driver nodded, taking a left to turn away from the panicked transmissions of stormtrooper patrols. Suddenly, the comms blared to life again, another voice cutting in this time.

_ “W-Wait, she’s on the move--- heading east, past the bazar now--- squad six, can you intercept at the square?” _

“Hey, aren’t we at---”

“Pull back!” Atilla’s lieutenant shouted, anxiously twisting in his seat to make sure they were clear behind the vehicle. The smell of ozone drifted towards Yang’s nose, and she noticed the sound of blasterfire steadily becoming louder. She sat up in her seat suddenly, hand slowly drifting down to her holster, ready.

 

Before they could back out of the street, a raven-haired girl whipped around the corner, looking frantically over her shoulder, ears flat against the top of her head. The Weequay panicked, pulling out his blaster.

“S-Shoot her! We can at least get commendation from the Imperials!” He stammered before unloading a few shots in her direction. Two of the other enforcers in the skiff followed suit, only one remaining still, keeping an eye on Yang.

Unfortunately for them, they didn’t take into account the troopers close on the runaway’s heels, their shots going wide of their target and instead hitting the pursuers. One of them, clutching his side, rolled into a doorway, pulling out his commlink; the transmission came crisply through the tapped-in commlink.

_ “Shots fired on our patrol in the square; Jedi has accomplices, bring everything we’ve got!” _

Shocked, the Weequay began shouting what Yang could only assume to be expletives in his native language. Deciding that now was as good a chance as any, she pulled her arm back and slammed her elbow into helmet of the man next to her, the plastoid crunching under the force and sending him out the side of the skiff in a crumpled heap. Before anyone knew what she was doing, the smuggler had slid over to place a firm kick in the side of the side of the man on her other side, sending him rolling over the edge.

“Captain Xiao Long, think very carefully about---” the leather-faced thug began in a low, gravelly voice, suddenly shut up as Yang placed a shot in the back of the driver’s head, levelling the pistol at the shocked face of her would-be abductor.

“Atilla will have your head.” He growled, steadfast. The blonde smirked, eyes dancing as they flickered to crimson and back again.

“Plenty of people have told me that, but honestly? Atilla is the least of my concerns.” She grinned before pulling the trigger of her DT-12 again. Rather than melting a fresh hole in his face, rings of blue emitted themselves from the muzzle, the weequay going stiff before crumpling over the side.

_ Leaving  _ him _ alive should give Atilla plenty to deal with,  _ she thought to herself with a grin before looking around again. The girl had stopped briefly, not far from the skiff, watching Yang intently. She holstered her pistol, leaping over the side and putting a hand on the girl’s shoulder.

“Are you hurt?”

“No.” She replied, obviously wary of her. Yang sighed, nodding her head in the direction of clattering plastoid armor coming from the alleyway across the square.

“There are more on the way, but my ship isn’t far! I can get you out of here.”

“Why should I trust you?” The woman scoffed, recoiling. Yang shrugged.

“I’m the only one who hasn’t shot at you so far?” As if on cue, another beam of plasma rocketed between them, making a smoking hole in the wall. The girl’s ears flattened reflexively as she rolled her eyes and nodded.

_ “Fine, _ but if you try something, I will kill you.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Yang beamed, pulling her blaster back out and firing a few shots blindly behind her as she grabbed the girl’s hand and led her down the backstreet. “This way! Docking Bay 92!”

 

It didn’t take the pair long to find the docking bays, the doors to  _ the Bumblebee  _ still open after Yang had been escorted away by Atilla’s men. She sprinted past the girl, hitting a button to extend the ship’s ramp. She glanced back over her shoulder; there weren’t any troopers behind them yet, but she knew they wouldn’t be far behind.

“Up the ramp, take a left!” She shouted, the stranger following her instructions and making her way into the cockpit. Yang raised the ramp as soon as she was on board, sealing the bulkhead doors and following the young woman into the cockpit.

She slid into the captain’s chair, the girl next to her already sitting in the co-pilot’s seat as she began flipping switches and toggles, initiating the takeoff sequence.

“Here,” she said, activating the holdout cannon and pointing to the controls. “Directional controls, power levels. Don’t overload the cannon, I can’t spare a lot of juice until we take off, but keep them off the ship!” She ordered, angling deflector shields to offer some sort of protection. The girl nodded, concentrating on securing their position.

It didn’t take long for the stormtroopers to start filing in front of the blast doors, making easy targets for the ship’s weapons as they were gunned down by expert aim. She glanced at her strange new companion out of the corner of her eye, resisting the urge to whistle in admiration as she tried to focus on the task at hand. It wouldn’t take long for the engines to warm up enough to leave - getting authorization to exit the spaceport would be another thing.

“Come on, come on…” She kept an eye on her request, dots slowly building up over the screen. No reply from the local air control.

“We’ve got bigger problems than blasters.” The woman said anxiously, tearing Yang’s attention away to see the squadron readying a rocket launcher at the doors, peeking out over makeshift barricades and keeping their distance.

“Fuck. Fuck!” She slammed her hand down on the console. “Alright, the deflector shields can take maybe one hit, two if we’re lucky. Hold this.” She grabbed the woman's hand, and moved it over to a trio of levers on the wall opposite from her. Amber eyes locked with violet questioningly.

“When I say, I need you to throw those levers. Got it?” The girl nodded, suddenly thrown back in her seat as the ship was rocked by the first blast. Sweating, Yang looked at the diagnostics.

_ Good enough, _ she grimaced, hitting the initializer and causing a low whine to build up throughout the ship. Slowly, they began raising off the ground, repulsors kicking in as they kicked up dust and sand in the docking bay.

“They’re firing another one!”

“Now!” Yang called, hitting an overflow switch just as her companion threw the switches on her end. In a burst of energy, they shot out of the docking bay, the second rocket going wide as it glanced past the underbelly of the freighter.

A voice crackled through the comms, filling the cockpit.  _ “---eighter 8M-8L8, you are not cleared for launch, return to Docking Bay 92 for---” _

“Sorry, but you guys took to long,” Yang said through gritted teeth as she angled the ship upwards. The young woman next to her grasped the arms of her chair, looking over at her, panic written on her face.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Getting us out of here!” Yang hollered, firing a volley of laserfire at the ceiling of the glass dome. The surface shattered on impact, shards falling over the ship and raining down to the streets below as the freighter sailed through the new opening and into the open sky, the stranger letting out an immense sigh of relief as they finally slipped into open air, and out of the atmosphere into the space beyond.

 

Yang eased back in her chair, letting out a deep sigh. The woman next to her did the same, both of them allowing the ship to slowly trundle through open space.

In an instant, the cockpit whipped into action. The woman’s lightsaber hissed into action, the shimmering violet blade pointed an inch from the smuggler’s neck. Likewise, she had her blaster pressed firmly against the girl’s stomach, set to full power, finger on the trigger. Neither moved, utterly silent except for panting from the exertion of the sudden movement.

“So,” Yang said.

“So.” The woman flashed what almost looked like a smirk.

“You’re really a Jedi.”

“I really am.”

“I thought Jedi didn’t kill innocents.”

“I saw you kill three men and leave a fourth for the Imperials. I highly doubt you’re that innocent.” Yang tried to keep a straight face, but a chuckle slipped out nonetheless as she pulled her pistol back, sliding it into her holster.

“You’ve got me there. I’m Yang. Yang Xiao Long.” She smiled, offering a hand. The blade didn’t move from her neck. She sighed, rolling her eyes.

“I’m not going to turn you into the Empire. Honestly, they’d probably shoot me if I entered the same sector as one of their outposts.” The blade inched slightly forward, the heat radiating off of it, making Yang’s skin crawl uncomfortably.

“Why should I trust you? What’s your angle?” The young woman demanded, amber eyes flashing.

“Because I can take you to the one group who could use someone like you!” Yang cried out, causing the stranger to pull back slightly. It was a start at least.

 

“I can take you to the Alliance. I-I’m not trying to fuck with you, I’m serious.” Yang watched as the stranger eyed her up and down one more time before deactivating her blade, the shimmering violet that had been filling the cockpit disappearing, replaced by the soft glow of display consoles and flashing buttons.

 

Blake buried her disbelief deep inside of her, trying to analyze any sign of deceit in the tan, freckled woman before her.

“The Alliance. The Rebel Alliance.” Yang nodded, tucking a few locks of curly, blonde hair behind her ear.

“I’m picking up a shipment of emergency supplies for a dropoff right now, if you’d like.” Blake sat back in her chair, crossing her arms as she narrowed her eyes.

“You’d really just let me go with you to one of the most wanted organizations in the galaxy?”

“Well, it’s not like I’m taking you to meet Princess Leia Organa in the flesh.” Yang scoffed. “I work for one of their cells. That said, it’s still the Alliance, and I’m sure you’re arrival at their cell would spread through the rest of the network like wildfire.” Blake nodded slowly, sticking her hand out steadily.

“...Captain, my apologies. I’ve been…  _ rude.” _ She said as she began to relax. “My name is Blake. Blake…”

Her mind scrambled for a last name. In the past, she had never needed a last name for a cover before, or if she had, then it was provided for her. This time, however, it was left up to her. Like this whole mission. Slowly, her mind latched onto the first thing that came from the depths.

“...Belladonna.”

“Well, Blake, I promise you this-” Yang smiled, turning in her chair and grasping the controls again, slowly calculating a jump into hyperspace.

“You coming with me? It's going to give a lot of people hope.”

“Hope.” Blake mused, a smile dancing on her lips. Yes, that was a concept. The Black Hand of Lord Vader, bringing hope to a rebellion of insurrectionists. Bringing a spark of fight to the very band that she, her entire life, had been raised to destroy. The irony of the situation tickled at something deep inside, but it also brought something else. A twinge of… no, that couldn’t be it. She had to be imagining it as she tried to force a smile, weaker this time.

But that feeling wouldn’t go away. It continued to eat at her insides as the stars in front of them turned to streaks of white, then to streams of bright blue, the hyperdrive kicking in and sending them sailing through space. The feeling persisted, even then.

 

Intense, burning guilt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all fair warning PLEASE don't expect every chapter to be this long holy FUCK i don't know what happened lmao. Looking forward to hearing from you all, and I look forward to the next chapter! Until then!


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